Unfinished Business
by Tierney Beckett
Summary: As Faramir begins to rebuild his life, he receives a very unexpected visitor. What is this unfinished business the visitor claims to have? A collection of events through Faramir's later life and a story of the power of brotherly love. R&R, please.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Okay, this is far-fetched and is, at times, liable to get a bit....strange. So sue me. What are you going to get out of it. A 1986 Prelude? Good. Means a new car for me. Anyway, if you are in the process of reading my 'Further Adventures of the Fanfiction Fellowship', fear not. I have merely hit a wall on that story. I've written....and written...and rewritten the seventh chapter. As we speak, it is now under review with LadyDeb1970, a most capable and gifted fanfic authoress, who is my touchstone for ideas in the Stargate universe. So, I'm sorry for the delay on that one but I think I just got bled dry. Should be back on track any day. In the meantime, please accept this as a small peace offering. Please?

Disclaimer: If I owned it, then Peter Jackson would've paid me for the movie rights and I would be hanging out with Viggo, Orlando, David, Sean, Sean, Elijah, Billy, Dom, Craig, John, Liv, Cate, Miranda, Peter, Fran, Philippa, and all the other amazing, incredible, talented people who worked on the movies!

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''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''The Citadel in Minas Tirith

In the dead of night, Faramir, Steward of Gondor, woke in a cold sweat. Desperately, he tried to remember what it was he had been dreaming, but the dream eluded him. Frustrated and irritated, he threw back the bedclothes and tossed on a robe.

For a week now, he had woken up in the same manner. But he was never able to remember the dream that invaded his slumber. After donning his robe, he splashed water from the basin on his face, hoping to quell his rising irritation. It did not help, however, and so he resorted to opening the doors that led to the balcony of his room.

It was a windy night and the breeze whipped around him as he stepped outside, but Faramir didn't care. He leaned against the doorframe and looked out across the horizon, sighing heavily. This dream was plaguing him constantly, ever since Eowyn had returned to Rohan with her brother. He did not understand it at all. Why could he not remember? Was there something special about this dream?

"Say, that wind's a bit chilly. Why are the doors open?" said a voice from across the room.

Faramir froze, wondering who on Middle Earth would have the audacity to enter his private chambers without bothering to knock first. And he hadn't heard the door open. Slowly, he turned in the direction of the voice. With no light except the moon and stars, it was very difficult to see at first. But, as Faramir's eyes adjusted, he was able to see the speaker very clearly. And, when he saw who had spoken, he turned as pale as Eowyn herself. Alarmed, the speaker started towards him, but Faramir sprang away from him in an instant, grabbing an ornate statue off a bookcase as he passed it. He brandished it threateningly at the intruder, who backed away.

"I do not know who you are, sir, but if this is a joke of some sort, it is in very poor taste."

"I assure you, it is not a joke."

"Then you are obviously a trick of the Enemy, left over from one of his plots that was never brought to fruition. No doubt, now that he has been destroyed, you have been left to your own devices. I sympathize with your....lack of direction, but you are not welcome here. We can bring you to trial and decide your fate, whether you will be destroyed or..."

"Faramir! For Eru's sake! Are you not capable of carrying on a conversation without making a speech?"

"How do you know my name? Oh, of course. All part of the plot."

"Faramir! It's me."

Faramir narrowed his eyes and studied the man in front of him. The hair, the eyes, the build. The voice. But it couldn't be.

"No. You are not my brother. My brother is dead!" the Steward exclaimed, dropping the statue to the floor. He turned and walked out onto the balcony, leaving Boromir alone in the room. The man sighed and shook his head, then followed Faramir outside.

"Faramir," he began.

"No! I will not listen. You are in my mind, Boromir. Would you have me driven mad, as our father was?"

Boromir winced at this, but he persisted.

"Are you comparing my powers to that of the palantir? Truly, Faramir, you flatter me."

Silence.

"Or perhaps you insult me," Boromir concluded.

"That was my intent," came the reply.

Again, Boromir winced. This was not going well at all. Of course, he hadn't expected it to be easy. Taking a deep breath, he walked up next to Faramir and looked out on the courtyard. In the distance, he saw the lights of Osgiliath and he couldn't help but smile.

"'I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall'," he said. "Aragorn is rebuilding quickly, isn't he?"

"I am not in the habit of listening to voices in my head. Leave me."

"Faramir, I know this is a shock. But please listen to me. I am not a voice in your head. Here," Boromir held his hand out his younger brother. "You can touch me, you can see me, you can obviously hear me."

"But you're dead! Aragorn saw you die! He and Prince Legolas and Master Gimli sent you over the Falls of Rauros! You died defending Merry and Pippin! How can you stand before me now and tell me that none of this is true?!"

"I never said it was not true, Faramir."

"Then you are a ghost? Well, that is much better than hearing voices in my head."

The sarcasm was not lost on Boromir.

"I am not, precisely, a ghost. I much prefer the term 'spirit'. It's much more....spiritual."

"How very droll."

"Faramir, please try to understand me."

"Understand you?! I should not even be talking to you! You are dead, Boromir! Dead! That means that you can no longer talk to me! You can no longer be with me!"

Boromir stared at his brother, unused to seeing him so angry. So that was it.

"You are angry with me, Faramir?"

"Of course I am! **YOU LEFT ME!!!**"

The words hung in the air between them as they regarded each other, Boromir's eyes full of shock, Faramir's eyes snapping with anger. The younger brother no longer cared if he was imagining things or not. The past week of his elusive dream had pushed him to the very limits of his temper. Now, all of a sudden, he was confronted with the specter of his brother.

"I see," Boromir said quietly. "But I never truly left you, Faramir. And here I am to prove it."

"And where were you when Father ordered me to retake Osgiliath?"

"I was there. You survived, did you not?"

"What about when I was placed on top of my own funeral pyre?" Faramir inquired cuttingly.

"I was there. How do you suppose Pippin found the strength to push you off that pyre?"

"You did not help him."

"No, not in the physical sense. I was not allowed. But I was with him. Just as I was with you. Faramir, the longer you argue with me, the more time we waste."

"What time? You can only remain here for a certain amount of time?"

"No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous, Faramir. But do you really want to stand out here on the balcony and argue with me?"

"What I want to do is go back to bed and get a decent night's sleep. That, unfortunately, has not happened for the past week."

"I know."

Faramir looked over at his brother.

"You do?"

"How else was I going to get your attention?"

"You've been sending me that dream? Boromir! Have you any idea what that dream has been doing to me? I haven't been able to sleep at all! Even when I'm awake, I keep trying to remember what it was that I dreamed the night before."

Boromir frowned, not liking the direction the conversation was going. Faramir had only just calmed down a little and he really did not want to get in an argument with his brother again.

"I am sorry, Faramir. But if I had just appeared in your chambers one night, while you were of perfectly sound mind, you never would've listened to me for this long."

Faramir started to say something, but suddenly saw a grain of truth in what his brother had just said and changed his mind. Sighing, he turned and went back inside.

"Where are you going?" Boromir inquired.

"You're the all-knowing one. You tell me," Faramir shot back. Boromir rolled his eyes and trailed his brother.

He deduced from his younger brother's actions that Faramir must have grown tired of the night air, for the young Steward was busily lighting candles in the room. When he finished, he closed the doors that led out onto the balcony and leaned against them heavily.

"Faramir? Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. I'm fine. Just haven't had much sleep in the past week and now I've been carrying on a conversation with my dead brother for the past twenty minutes," Faramir retorted, pushing himself away from the doors and crossing over to a small chest on the other side of the room. Wisely, Boromir did not make a witty retort, as he would've done in the past. Instead, he merely watched as Faramir opened the chest and pulled out a bottle and a small glass.

"What is that?" he asked.

"A gift."

"From who?"

"'Whom'," corrected Faramir absently. Boromir smiled at the correction of his grammar, but said nothing. "I received it from Elladan and Elrohir when I was officially proclaimed the Steward of Gondor."

"Aragorn's foster brothers?"

"Do you know of another Elladan and Elrohir?"

Boromir grinned.

"No, I do not. And I thank the Valar for seeing fit to bless the house of Lord Elrond with only two of them."

In spite of his rather foul and somewhat confused state of mind, Faramir could not stop the corners of his mouth from turning up slightly. He had been somewhat surprised at the amount of mischief the king's foster brothers had managed to stir up during their lengthy visit to Minas Tirith. Surprised, but pleased. And doubly pleased when they let him in on their little intrigues.

"But what is it?" Boromir asked, coming closer to Faramir as he poured the liquid into his glass.

"Miruvor wine, if you must know," the Steward replied. "I have been saving it for my wedding night. But I feel like I need it a bit more right now. Somehow, I don't think Eowyn will mind."

"And you won't offer me any? I love miruvor wine!"

"I don't mean to offend you, Boromir, but could it have escaped your notice that you....are....dead? Hmmm?"

Boromir glared at his brother.

"Well, you don't have to be so blunt about it," he snapped.

Faramir settled into a chair with his wine, trying desperately to make sense out of the entire situation. His brother, or something that claimed to be his brother, was walking about his room and talking to him! Truly, Faramir would've thought he was going mad if it were not for the fact that he was quite sure he was nowhere close to the edge of insanity.

Was it truly so hard to believe that Boromir had been watching him these past months? Was it truly so hard to believe that Boromir was in this room at this very moment? Faramir studied the man that was now pacing back and forth, muttering to himself in low tones. Well, if he wasn't Boromir, he certainly was giving a good imitation of it! The same mannerisms, the same nervous habits. Why, he was even fingering the cuff of his tunic the way Boromir always did when he was thinking about something.

Faramir frowned thoughtfully as he took a sip of the wine. _'Never be afraid to believe in things you do not understand'_. Now where did that come from? Oh, yes. Faramir did not remember very much about his mother, but he remembered that she was the one who told him that. In fact, she had told him that quite often. Was he afraid to believe that this was Boromir? Would it really be so horrible if Boromir were to come back? Sighing, Faramir set the glass down on a small table and rose, then walked over to where Boromir had been pacing back and forth.

"Why are you here, Boromir?"

The question was simple. There was no undertone of anger or hurt, just curiosity. Satisfied that his brother seemed calm, Boromir decided to answer.

"I have a promise to keep. Unfinished business, if you will."

"Oh, you do?"

"Yes, I do."

"And what would this promise be? Who did you make the promise to?"

For a moment, Faramir thought Boromir was going to answer him. But the moment passed and was soon replaced by a look that the younger brother knew all to well.

"I can't tell you that."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't tell you that. I'm very sorry, Faramir, but it's against the rules."

"Rules?"

"Yes. We all have rules, you know. And we must abide by them. I belong to a terribly strict organization."

Faramir shook his head and returned to his chair.

"This conversation is getting entirely too strange for me. I'm not entirely sure that I haven't already had the whole bottle of miruvor wine and that it is the cause of this vision."

Instantly, Boromir was completely serious.

"You must believe me, Faramir, when I say that I am not a vision. I am here. I am real. I am, unfortunately, not alive. But I will be with you when you need me."

"Hmmmm. And probably when I don't need you as well."

"Well, that was rather uncalled for."

"Oh, Boromir. I was only joking."

Boromir smiled.

"I know. Feels rather good to joke again, doesn't it."

"Yes. Boromir.....Boromir, I have missed you."

"I know you have. I've missed you as well. And I'm sorry I had to leave you, brother. It broke my heart to know that I was leaving you behind. But, as I just said, I'll be here in a manner of speaking."

"Will anyone else be able to see you?"

Boromir shook his head.

"No. Only you, brother. You're the only one."

"So I suppose that telling Eowyn about you would only make me seem like a raving lunatic."

"Ah, yes. Eowyn. As long as we're on the subject of Eowyn...."

"Oh, no. Never mind. I do not care to get into a discussion with you tonight about my future wife."

"But Faramir..."

"No. Besides, I'm feeling very tired all of a sudden."

"Yes, I'm sure you are," remarked Boromir dryly.

"Yes, I am. Whatever you have to say about Eowyn can wait until the next time you decide to interrupt my wonderful slumber with a hellish dream that I won't be able to remember when I wake up."

"Oh, I won't have to use that method next time. That was just necessary for an introduction."

Faramir scowled as he took off his robe and climbed back into bed.

"You always were theatrical, Boromir."

"Yes, well, I try," replied the older brother, bowing with a grand flourish.

Faramir's scowl deepened and he tossed a pillow at the offending spirit.

"I am tired, Boromir, and you have given me quite a lot to think about. Please...."

"Good night, brother. Remember. I'll always be here."

Faramir had just closed his eyes when Boromir said the last part. He bolted upright to protest his brother remaining in his room only to find that the room was empty. Smiling, Faramir laid back down.

"Good night, Boromir. I'll remember."

And the Steward of Gondor slipped into the first untroubled sleep he had had in a week. But his encounters with his brother were far from over.

TBC


	2. To Marry or Not to Marry

A/N: Okay, this actually started out as the first chapter, but I decided that Boromir needed an introduction before he began solving problems (or causing them). That's the reason for the speedy update. This chapter was already half-typed! Well, the first part, anyway.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did. Enough said.

SHOUT-OUTS: (My favorite part!)

Julia: 'Back from the beyond', indeed! I've always loved that phrase. So you want to know what Boromir was going to say about Eowyn. Well, he has quite a bit to say about her in this chapter. But I don't think you'll like it. Never fear, though. It's all part of 'The Plan'. And the next couple of chapters deal expressly with the days leading up to Faramir and Eowyn's wedding. As for Aragorn...it's very odd that you should ask about him. (grins evilly)

Rosie/26: Thank you so much for reviewing! I have wanted to explore Boromir and Faramir's relationship for a long time. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. This chapter didn't turn out precisely how I wanted it, but I hope you like it nevertheless. And there will be moments in future chapters when Boromir is around when Faramir doesn't need him. Or to be more precise, doesn't _want_ him. Yes, definitely.

Sache8: Boromir is ascended? I must admit, I never thought of that before I got your review, but you've given me a whole new perspective on things. Boromir is an Ancient! Wait a minute, wait a minute! I feel a crossover coming on! No. No, it passed. Darnit. And you weren't being silly. I love it when people do stuff like that in their reviews. And you're right. If Boromir is ascended, then whatever help he offers Faramir won't be helpful at all.

Susan W: Why, hello! Now, I can't tell you what Boromir's unfinished business is. You'll find out soon enough. But thank you so much for reviewing. I just love reviews.

Angoliel: Hmmmm. There's that word again. 'Intrigued'. Where is it going? Well, I'll tell you. This story is going to be a compilation of short stories that, in the end, actually have a point. Truly. No, I'm telling the truth. Don't frown at your computer screen. It isn't good manners. If you must frown, then frown at me. There, that's better.

Mercury Gray: Yes, all older siblings, male or female, are big pains. I can say that because I am the oldest in a family of three. I know whereof I speak. So I figured Boromir should torment Faramir every once in a while. And why not have Faramir hear voices? He sees dead people. AAAAHHHHH! Vision of Haley Joel Osment playing Faramir!! Get it out! Get it out!!!!! He's a good actor, but he's no David Wenham! GET IT OUT!!!!!!

The Last Evenstar: My goodness, you're going to make my head explode with those compliments. Really, you are. And since I do not want to be responsible for the death of one of my most faithful reviewers, here is another installment. Better than AFF? Uh-oh. I'm going to have to start topping myself.

LadyDeb: My first reviewer! You know, you'll probably think I'm really stupid when you read this, but I actually had tears in my eyes when I wrote that part about Pippin. I had this vision in my mind of that scene, only I could see Boromir standing behind Pippin, whispering in his ear and encouraging him. Yeah, I know. I'm crazy. By the way, thanks for reading over that chapter of AFF. I really appreciate it. I'll e-mail you tomorrow and let you know how it's going.

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''''''''''''''The Citadel in Minas Tirith – Two weeks before the wedding of Faramir and Eowyn

"I am not a possession!"

"I never said you were!"

"But you act as though I am and actions speak louder than words!"

"Be that as it may, Eowyn, your words are loud enough for the entire city of Minas Tirith to hear! I should not be surprised if my men in Osgiliath could hear you right now!"

"I am not the only one guilty of speaking in raised tones! Listen to your own voice, Faramir!"

"How can I? You're shrieking too loud for me to hear anything at all!!"

The next sound was very clear. It was the sound of a slammed door and, just down the corridor, the King of Gondor winced when the sound echoed through the halls of the chamber. He looked over at his wife, who smiled at him reassuringly.

"They will be fine," she said.

"It's been like this for two days," Aragorn said, his voice close to a whine. Eowyn had returned from Rohan a week ago to begin making final preparations for her marriage to Faramir. From the sounds that had just emanated from Faramir's study, however, Aragorn doubted that the marriage would even take place.

"Estel, all couples argue," Arwen reminded him, returning her attention to the book she was reading.

"We never argued like that," he replied staunchly. Arwen cocked one eyebrow in a manner that was eerily reminiscent of Lord Elrond.

"Did we not?" she asked.

"No," he held firm to his initial statement.

"I seem to recall," she looked thoughtful as she laid the book aside and rose, walking over to where he sat in his favorite chair, "when a certain Ranger decided he would celebrate the anniversary of his betrothal to his beloved by having a picnic on Cerin Amroth..."

Aragorn groaned.

"Only to find out that he was, indeed, entirely off the mark regarding the date of the aforementioned betrothal. In point of fact..."

"Arwen, it had been a particularly horrible year. Will you continue to throw that one mistake in my face for the rest of my life?"

Arwen smiled.

"Then there was the question of the Ranger's attachment to a particularly lovely maiden in a small village on the outskirts of Rohan."

The King of Gondor spluttered.

"Arwen! Surely you cannot mean....But she was like a sister to me!"

"And let us not forget the time..."

"Alright, alright. You have proven your point. And very well, I might add. I suppose that we have had our share of particularly nasty fights."

Arwen had been all smiles up until this point. She did love teasing her Estel with past transgressions, or supposed transgressions as the case may be. But now she grew serious as she knelt down in front of him and took both his hands in hers.

"And after all of them, we both realized one thing. That we loved each other. And I am certain, Estel, that Faramir and Eowyn will realize the same. I have watched them together. They love each other passionately, which is why these arguments have been so...."

"Explosive?" Aragorn volunteered. Arwen frowned.

"Not a word I would have used, but if that is what you want to call them."

"It is," came the quick reply. Again, Arwen frowned.

"Eowyn and Faramir will come around in time. Soon, they will be married and living just as happily in Ithilien as we are in Minas Tirith. Trust me, meleth nin. Have I ever led you astray?"

Aragorn looked thoughtful as he pulled one of his hands away from Arwen and began to stroke his chin.

"Well....there was that time in Lothlorien....."

But he never finished, for the Daughter of Elrond promptly tackled the King of Gondor, sending the chair flying backward and both of them sprawling to the floor. A wrestling match ensued, but the Evenstar was not above cheating. Since Arwen was privy to all sorts of secrets about her husband, courtesy of Elladan and Elrohir, it wasn't long before she used one tactic her brothers had informed her would always work. The guards who constantly patrolled the corridors of the Citadel couldn't be sure, but they thought they heard hysterical laughter coming from their king's study. In truth, Arwen soon had the upper hand. And, as tickle-fights so often do, the scene quickly escalated into something much more intimate. So, dear reader, let us leave the happy couple for now and join the true reason for this story.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''Faramir's Study

While Aragorn and Arwen were discussing the marriage of their friends, one of those friends was pacing his study, mumbling under his breath. Unfortunately, most of his mutterings were not of the romantic sort.

Faramir had recently learned, to his dismay, that the very woman he was planning to spend the rest of his life with possessed a very peculiar talent. She could make him angry quicker than anyone he had ever met in his entire life. By nature, Faramir was even-tempered and slow to wrath. And so he had been astonished two evenings ago when Eowyn had managed, within five minutes time, to provoke him into raising his voice. Indeed, even the servants within hearing of the couple had been astonished. Rarely had Lord Faramir spoken in such a way!

Yet he had done so that night. And the next. And again today. Faramir shook his head as he continued pacing. Surely this was not how things were supposed to be. He wished he could remember more about his parents' marriage. All he remembered was bits and pieces, but those bits and pieces were happy memories at least. He could recall no arguments, no raised voices. Whatever Denethor might have been later in life, he had practically worshipped the ground Finduilas walked on.

What about the king and queen? Of course, they had only been married for a few months. Then again, they had known each other for decades. Faramir ran his hand through his hair, wishing not for the first time that he had some example of a married couple to go by. His mind raced as he tried desperately to think of something, anything besides Eowyn, because he didn't want to linger on the one question that had been coming back to him for the past twenty-four hours. What if he and Eowyn didn't truly belong together after all?

Letting out a subdued groan of frustration, Faramir flung open the doors of his study and proceeded to barrel past the guards in the corridor. He ignored the curious stares of the servants and advisors and nobility that he passed. He had to get away from the Citadel, possibly out of Minas Tirith altogether. Faramir wasn't entirely sure of where he was going, but he knew that he needed to think. And he had never been able to think clearly while he was shut up indoors.

From the balcony of her chambers, Eowyn watched as Faramir disappeared into the stables. Only a few moments later, he came back out leading his horse. She jumped a little when, once Faramir was mounted, the stallion reared up. But Faramir seemed to be in just the mood for a challenge, for when the horse came back down, the Steward immediately sent it into a gallop. Eowyn watched as the pair thundered away from the Citadel. When she could no longer see her fiance, she pressed her lips into a thin line, pulled her sword from it's hiding place and left her room, heading for the training grounds.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''One hour later

Faramir had come to rest on a little hill that was nestled outside Minas Tirith. Here, he had removed his horse's trappings and let the animal run loose for a while, grazing.

It was astounding, Faramir reflected, how this small patch of land seemed to have been left untouched by the war. And yet it was so fitting. One of the few memories Faramir had of Finduilas involved this place. He remembered a summer picnic on this hill. According to Boromir, it had been one of many and, more than once, their Father had accompanied them. Boromir had begun to teach him sword-fighting in this spot, as well. It was, of course, against their father's wishes. Faramir had only been five at the time and Boromir only a novice himself. The 'swords' had been no more than sturdy twigs that Boromir had fashioned for his brother. Despite his depressing thoughts about his future, or lack thereof, with Eowyn, Faramir smiled at the memory.

"So you remember that as well?"

The Steward jumped up at the voice, drawing the sword that hung at his side. When he saw who it was, he sighed and returned the sword to its sheath.

"What do you want?" he asked petulantly as he lowered himself back down on the grass.

"My, aren't we in a mood today?"

"Yes. 'We' are. So please, Boromir, go find someone else to haunt."

Boromir frowned.

"I must say, that's a rather closed-minded statement. As I have said before, Faramir, I am not a ghost. Therefore, I do not 'haunt'. Besides, I prefer the term...visit. It sounds much better. And I'm very particular about the people I visit."

"Should I be flattered?" Faramir inquired absently as he picked up a nearby rock and flung it across the meadow. Unfortunately, it landed near the grazing horse who, predictably, was spooked and took off at an immediate gallop. Faramir scowled and let loose with a string of curse words in Dwarvish and Elvish. Boromir arched his eyebrow and sat down next to his brother.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

The Boromir of old would've pressed Faramir until, exasperated, the younger brother finally would've given in and spilled everything. But this Boromir had learned a few new tricks and so he abruptly switched course.

"You were thinking about our training sessions out here," he said.

"You can read my mind?" Faramir looked at Boromir incredulously, not at all comfortable with this idea. Boromir, however, merely shrugged.

"Only when you think of me. The dead can hear your thoughts, Faramir. When you think of them, that is. By the way, I don't think I told you this the other night. Thank you for wondering what I thought of Aragorn. We weren't exactly great friends from the moment we met."

Faramir couldn't help but smile.

"I thought as much. You're entirely too stubborn sometimes. Oh, don't bother denying it. Aragorn is, too."

Boromir grinned now.

"Yes, he is. At any rate, I'm glad that you made up your own mind about him."

"Well, it's hard not to like the man who's responsible for saving your life and the life of the woman you..."

Faramir trailed off and turned his gaze back to the horizon. Boromir observed his brother for a moment before deciding to press his advantage.

"The woman you love?" he finished.

"You tricked me," Faramir said in a sullen tone.

"Never could get anything past you," came the sunny reply. "Honestly, Faramir, if you love the woman then why are you sitting out here in the middle of our childhood training grounds, brooding? Go recite poetry to her. Serenade her. Here," Boromir picked a nearby dandelion and tossed it nonchalantly into Faramir's lap. "Give her flowers."

Faramir picked up the dandelion and examined it as he twirled it between two fingers.

"Boromir, this is a weed."

"But it's pretty," the older brother protested. The dandelion was tossed back at him. "Alright then. She doesn't like flowers. I've been meaning to talk to you about this Eomer for some time now, anyway."

"Eowyn, Boromir. Her name is Eowyn. Eomer is her brother."

"Oh. Sorry. Well, how was I supposed to know that?"

"You know everything else. And I have no desire to discuss Eowyn with you. You wouldn't understand."

"I know more about romance than you do, little brother. How many romances have you had in your lifetime?"

Faramir was silent.

"Well?" Boromir prodded, his tone growing impatient.

"this is mnph mmmph..." muttered Faramir.

"I can't hear you," Boromir said in a sing-song tone, cupping his hand around his ear and leaning in closer.

"I said 'This is my first one'! Satisfied?!" exclaimed Faramir, his face red. Whether his face was red with embarrassment or anger, Boromir didn't know. But he was truly sorry for pushing his brother to that point.

"I'm sorry, Faramir. I don't mean to anger you, or to embarrass you in any way. I merely want to point out that I might be of some help."

"Yes, because you've been so much help to me already," Faramir's voice dripped with sarcasm, but Boromir wasn't deterred.

"Women are strange creatures, little brother," Boromir began. Faramir rolled his eyes.

"Is this an example of you being helpful?" he inquired.

Boromir glared at his brother.

"Well I am so sorry. It certainly isn't my fault that you couldn't pick a normal girl to fall in love with."

The eldest son of Denethor got up and began to walk away, but he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with his younger brother, who was looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Faramir asked, wanting to give Boromir the benefit of the doubt.

"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," Boromir replied.

"You said I couldn't pick a 'normal' girl to fall in love with. What do you mean by that, Boromir?"

Had it not been for the fact that Faramir was beginning to look truly angry, Boromir would've begun jumping around for joy at that very moment. Obviously, his plan was working. As it was, however, he realized that he was treading on dangerous ground. Any joyous outbursts on his part at this moment would definitely be inappropriate.

"What I mean, Faramir, is quite simple," he replied as he gingerly removed Faramir's hand from his shoulder and subtly moved out of arm's reach. Dead or no, he didn't relish the thought of his brother taking a swing at him. "You have always had any number of young women at your beck and call right here in Minas Tirith. Beautiful women of Gondor who respect the traditional role of a wife and know their place. Yet you never showed any interest beyond that of a friend towards them. Then, all of a sudden, here comes Eowyn. She is a Shieldmaiden of Rohan, brother. The country of Rohan is wild, as you well know. And it would appear that Rohan's women are very much the same. Oh, don't bother arguing with me and get that look of righteous indignation off your face. I heard that argument two nights ago. And the argument the next night. And the one today. Really, Faramir, I don't know how you think you can spend the rest of your life arguing with a woman like that. You should marry a nice, sweet, subservient woman of Gondor. They know their place and your life will be much more peaceful."

Throughout this speech, Faramir had run the gamut of emotions from surprise to anger and then fury. Now he was just plain shocked that Boromir could even suggest such a thing. Marry someone else? Marry a woman of Gondor? Setting his jaw, he advanced on his brother. Boromir blanched, wondering if perhaps his plan had worked a little bit too well. But he needn't have feared. If there was one thing that would never change about Faramir, it was the fact that he usually made his feelings known with words rather than with fists.

"Boromir, I don't know where you get your information from, but you best be careful how you talk about Eowyn. She is not 'wild', as you so indelicately put it. Perhaps you do not know this, but it is she who slayed the Witch-King of Angmar. I doubt that any of these 'subservient' women you would have me married off to could've ridden off to war and stood with the other soldiers on Pelennor Fields. It is because of her temperament that I love Eowyn! Have you any idea how boring and tedious my life would be if I were to marry one of those women you were just talking about? She'd only open her mouth to say 'Yes, Faramir' or 'Whatever you wish, Faramir'. I do not want that! That's what makes Eowyn so special! There's a fire in her, Boromir! Have you not seen it? Surely you have. You cannot have missed it! When she laughs, when she moves. Aye, even when she's angry....."

Faramir stopped talking abruptly as he realized what he was saying and Boromir began to smile. Slowly, Faramir lowered himself back down to the ground and his brother soon joined him. They sat in companionable silence until finally, Faramir spoke.

"Am I always destined to behave like a fool?"

"Yes," replied Boromir with conviction. Faramir glowered at him.

"You didn't have to answer so quickly."

"Yes, I did."

Faramir sighed and, picking up another rock, flung it out again into the meadow. There was no longer a horse to be spooked, so Boromir soon joined him in this exercise.

"Do you even remember what the argument was about?" Boromir questioned him.

Faramir opened his mouth to reply only to find, to his surprise, that he did not remember what the argument was about. And so, instead of replying, he began to laugh.

"I'll take that as a no, then."

"I'm sorry, Boromir. I truly don't remember why we argued in the first place. I don't remember what the other two arguments were about, either. I suppose they couldn't have been that important, although I know they all ended up in the same way."

"And what way is that?"

Faramir turned to his brother suddenly.

"If you were there, then why do you ask?"

"Because you should talk about it. Do not question your elders, Faramir. It is very disrespectful."

Faramir gave a snort of laughter and returned to the task of flinging small rocks, but he answered the question.

"She thinks I treat her like a possession. And to be treated like a possession is one thing that Eowyn cannot abide."

"I see. And do you treat her like a possession?"

The Steward thought this over for a moment. He honestly couldn't think of a single occasion when he had treated Eowyn as anything other than a human being. He loved her! Why would he treat her like a possession? Sensing his brother's hesitation, Boromir spoke up.

"Perhaps you did or said something that Eowyn took the wrong way. Or perhaps it is one of our customs that is making her feel like a possession. You know that the royal courts of Gondor and Rohan are similar in many ways, but they differ in many ways as well."

Faramir shook his head.

"If it were something as simple as that, Eowyn would've just come to me and talked to me about it."

Boromir began to laugh at that and Faramir looked perplexed.

"What? What did I say?"

"Faramir, you are one of the most intelligent men I ever knew. I have often longed to be as smart as you are. But, when it comes to women, you are sometimes sadly lacking in knowledge. You know how to win their hearts, apparently, but you aren't quite sure of how their mind works. It is true that it would've been much simpler to just come to you and tell you that she was bothered by something. And, for that very reason, Eowyn did not tell you she was bothered by something."

If Faramir looked perplexed before, he looked extremely confused now.

"I don't understand."

"You never will, Faramir. You never will. But do not worry, for you are in good company. You can join the rest of the male species. Dwarves, Elves, and Men alike. Now, go to her, brother, and find out what is troubling her. She does love you and it is more than obvious that she is in the very heart and soul of everything you do. Make things right with her, Faramir. She's the best thing that ever happened to you."

"Yes, but....Boromir?"

Faramir had turned to his brother, only to find that he was no longer there. Sighing, he pushed himself up off the ground and addressed the empty space in front of him.

"I would really appreciate a warning next time!" he exclaimed. His only answer was a sudden gentle breeze and, slightly mollified, he set off walking towards Minas Tirith.

TBC


	3. A Question of Propriety

A/N: I'm back! And since it's been so long, without further adieu, I give you…..the next chapter!

Post A/N: Nearly forgot! These little things """"""" denote a dream sequence. Yes, a dream sequence. Now, since you know that, on with the chapter!

SHOUT-OUTS: (So sue me!)

Roisin Dubh: I'm glad you like it! Secret? Maybe. She is hiding a little something. Maybe I'll reveal it in this chapter. Oh, you picked a favorite line! I love it when people do that! And, apparently, Boromir is not above cheating either, eh? Go, Boromir! Thanks for reviewing! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

The Last Evenstar: Well….it's not a clash of cultures. Not yet, anyway. Something a little more personal than that. And I drew from my own experience before my marriage took place. Well, except for one thing. The dream. I didn't have the dream. Wonder why? Hmmm. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

LadyDeb1970: No, Haley Joel Osment is no David Wenham. I'd have to agree with you on that. Jail bait! Jail bait! Anyway, you're always helpful! Always, always, always! Never doubt that!

Fool of a Rohirrim: I'm sorry. I couldn't keep the fighting-Faramir-and-Eowyn thing up. Don't worry. They've got plenty of fights left in them. But I just couldn't keep it up in this chapter. Read on to find out why. Hope you're not disappointed. And it's fun to write Boromir and Faramir together. They're great!

Lindahoyland: Mmmmmm….you're probably right. This is my first dramatic/humor/a little bit of everything piece in LoTR, so I'm still learning. Thanks for being honest! And constructive. I'm glad you like it.

Angoliel: I am continuing. It's taken me awhile, but you can blame Haldir. Uh-oh. He's pouting. Okay, don't blame Haldir. He's so sensitive! But……we already knew that! Ha, ha, ha,….ha….ha…..ahem. Well, I hope you enjoy the chapter. And I'm sorry for the long wait.

Susan W: I am a huge fan of Aragorn/Arwen, so I try to work it in. Even in my completely zany fics. Role reversal on the brothers is fun. I loved doing that. And Boromir's plan nearly backfired on him, didn't it? Poor Boromir. He tried. So glad you liked it!

Lackwit: You like my story! Thank you! Oh. Well, I went back and re-read my chapters. You're right. That does feel a little off. So, I'll try and tone that down a little, okay? I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Cleasmile: Wow! I'm getting new reviewers like crazy! I love this! Yes, anything with Eowyn will be resolved quickly. I will not break up one of my favorite LoTR couples. And I like Eowyn. Next problem for next chapter? Uncertainty. Uncertainty is always a killer. And jealousy. And……the past. Oooooo, the past will always get you. Denethor? Well, I'd never thought about it, but it certainly is an intriguing idea. We'll see.

Gondorian-gurl: I'm glad you like it! Yes, Boromir was very tricksy. You think I captured the characters well! Wow, I'm flattered. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

Rosie26: I did struggle with that while I was writing the last chapter, but I kept imagining the mood Faramir was in anyway. No matter who is around me, if I'm upset or frustrated with my husband, I'm bound to snap at someone. So I wrote Faramir that way. Maybe I took it a little far, but it's all in the name of poetic license. Still, you liked it. And I'm glad you liked it. I just hope you like this chapter, too!

Mercury Gray: I seem to have a habit of getting Faramir into trouble, don't I? He's just not safe with me. Ooooo, that's a good idea. I like that idea. I can't use all of it, but I can use part of it. Can't I? Hmmmm? Please?

Julia: You know, that was my favorite passage in the last chapter. I loved writing that. And Faramir wouldn't treat Eowyn like a possession. All will be revealed in this chapter, I promise. It may seem mundane, but I think it's understandable. Eowyn is, after all, human. Glad you enjoyed the Aragorn/Arwen fluff. And don't worry about Aragorn. He'll survive. After all, he's survived my other fic and I've done horrible things to him there.

Shieldmaidenofrohan: Another Ascended vote for Boromir! Perhaps, if he'd known Oma, we could've avoided the whole death scene and the Falls of Rauros. Hmmm. Anyway, it seems to be the general consensus of opinion that Boromir is tricksy. Yes, precious. Very tricksy, indeed. And if you think Faramir was frustrated in the last chapter? Ha!

Spiritstllionofthecimarro: Thanks for the review! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Sache8: No, no, no. You can only choose one person for the tickle match. Just one. And don't worry. God will send you someone. Yes, He will. And if Boromir learned from the Hobbits, then he learned from the best! LOL Any grin on Boromir's face would be appealing! Right? Right. And Eowyn shouldn't have worried you in the last chapter. Worry about her in_this_ chapter. Yes. In_this_ chapter, my friend.

Silver Sniper: Per your 'request', I am updating. Hope you like! And thanks for the review!

* * *

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''The Citadel 

Without a horse, Faramir did not make very good time traveling back to Minas Tirith. The sun had long since disappeared into the horizon by the time he drew near the gates of the city. Just as the guards began to open the gates, Faramir heard a whinny. He turned and saw his horse making his way over at a neat little trot. When the beast drew near, Faramir caught the bridle and drew the horse's head down.

"Traitor," he whispered. The stallion nickered in reply and, in spite of the fact that the steward was irritated with his mount, Faramir couldn't keep back a smile. He shook his head in amusement.

"Well, just for that smart reply, you can carry me the rest of the way," he said. The horse tossed his head and Faramir laughed. The guards, standing nearby, reflected that the Lady Eowyn must be having some sort of odd effect on their Lord Steward. He was speaking to his horse as though the beast were human!

And so it was that Faramir rode through Minas Tirith to the stables of the Citadel. After leaving his horse in the hands of the head stableboy, Faramir practically ran towards the Citadel itself.

Just as Aragorn and Arwen were making their way out of the dining hall, they saw a slightly out of breath Steward heading towards them. The king and queen exchanged knowing glances. Eowyn was not the only one who had seen Faramir leave the Citadel earlier. While Aragorn and Arwen had been…..otherwise occupied at the time of Faramir's flight on horseback, Pippin had probably summed it up best when he said that gossip traveled faster in the Citadel than in the Shire.

"Have you seen Eowyn?" Faramir inquired as he drew near.

Two pairs of eyebrows shot up in a manner that left no doubt as to who had raised both owners of the aforementioned eyebrows. Faramir must indeed be eager to find his fiancée, for it was rare that the Steward did not address the king and queen properly when he first greeted them. Neither Aragorn and Arwen cared one whit about that, of course, but it was surprising that Faramir had skipped the formalities. Arwen was the first to find her voice.

"She was out on the training grounds an hour ago, Faramir," the queen informed him.

Faramir closed his eyes. The training grounds! Of course that's where she would go! Didn't Eomer tell him that Eowyn would go there if ever they had a fight? Instantly, he set off in the direction of the training grounds. Arwen watched him go with a slight smile on her face.

"I do not think this argument will last much longer, Estel," she addressed her husband.

"Good," he replied. "And since the happiness of our friends is imminent, why don't we retire for the evening?"

"You go on, Estel," Arwen said. "I have an urgent matter to attend to in the kitchen. But I shall be along shortly."

She kissed him on the cheek and was gone, leaving Aragorn standing in the hall, blinking. An urgent matter in the kitchen? Since when did his wife take on the characteristics of a hobbit? Shaking his head, Aragorn made his way to the chambers he shared with Arwen, unaware that Boromir had been watching him the whole time, laughing silently at his old friend's confusion.

''''''''''''''''''''''''Training Grounds of the Citadel

Faramir arrived to see the training grounds empty, save for two guards. More than a little irked that he had missed his fiancée, the steward cursed in a low voice.

"Really, Faramir, I don't think I ever heard you curse this much when I was alive."

Faramir jumped at the voice, then sighed.

"I thought we discussed a warning," he said.

"Ah, you never said anything about me giving a warning before I arrived, only before I departed. I promise, brother, that I shall give you ample warning next time. You have my word."

That seemed fair enough. Faramir sat down on a nearby stump and ran his hand through his hair while Boromir walked around the training grounds. The older brother finally ran out of patience.

"Well, why are you just sitting there, Faramir? For the love of the Valar, go find her! Talk to her! You didn't come all the way back to Minas Tirith just to sit in the middle of the training grounds, did you?"

"No. But she isn't here, Boromir."

Boromir rolled his eyes.

"Has love addled your brain? Queen Arwen said she was here only an hour ago, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"She couldn't have gone very far in an hour. What are you thinking, Faramir? Are you thinking that she packed up in the space of an hour and went back to Rohan? Go find her! She's somewhere in the Citadel, most likely in her chambers. Go talk to her there."

Faramir looked scandalized.

"I can't go to her chambers, Boromir! We aren't married!"

Boromir threw his hands up in the air and looked up at the sky.

"Eru help me!!" he entreated.

Turning back to his brother, Boromir tried again.

"Faramir, I'm not asking you to ravage the woman! Just talk to her! There is nothing wrong with talking. Or kissing, when all is said and done. You have kissed her, haven't you?"

_"Boromir!"_

"I just wondered. Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Have you kissed her?"

"Of course I have!!"

Faramir's yell, laced with irritation and frustration at his brother's antics, brought the attention of the two guards. They stared at the steward as though he'd gone mad and Faramir dropped his head into his hands.

"Wonderful," he said. "It will be all over the Citadel tomorrow that I was seen yelling at myself in the training grounds. Oh, Boromir. I thought you were going to help me."

There were a few moments of silence and then Faramir felt two strong hands on his shoulders. He looked up and saw his brother smiling down at him.

"I am," he said. "Let's go, Faramir."

Faramir smiled and stood, leading the way off the training grounds, and talking to his brother as he went.

"I'm sorry about teasing you," Boromir apologized. "But I am your older brother. It's a hard habit to break, I suppose. I'll try not to do it anymore."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Faramir replied. "If you were nothing but helpful, I would probably wonder what was wrong with you. Or I would suspect that it wasn't you at all."

The brothers continued a friendly banter as they walked past the guards. Those two worthy individuals exchanged glances with each other after Faramir had gone.

"Did you hear that?" one asked. His companion nodded.

"Poor man. I felt the same way just before I got married. Didn't know whether I was coming or going. Well, I hope Lady Eowyn gives him an easier time than my missus has given me."

The first one snorted with laughter.

"I doubt that. Did you see her out here earlier? I think we'll have to get some new training equipment after today."

But the second guard, despite the hard time his 'missus' had given him over the years, was still somewhat inclined towards romanticism.

"I don't know. Something about the way she lights up whenever he's around tells me that everything'll turn out alright in the end. Yes, I think everything'll turn out alright in the end."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''Eowyn's Chambers

Meanwhile, Eowyn was blissfully unaware that her future with Faramir was being discussed by two palace guards. Actually, she was just unaware. 'Blissfully' was probably not the best word to describe Eowyn's current state of mind.

She had tried to put Faramir, and her argument with him, out of her mind completely. But her usual method of clearing her head had failed miserably. Three hours in the training grounds had resulted in nothing more than some scratches on her legs and rather sore arms.

Eowyn grimaced as she stepped out of the now tepid bath water. It had been scalding hot when she got in half an hour ago and her skin, now a pinkish red color, attested to that fact. Her muscles were already beginning to feel the effects of her little 'training session'. As Eowyn dressed for bed, she was forced to remember something that Theodred had told her long ago, when she had first begun to learn how to fight.

'You should never, ever push yourself too hard. Know your limits when you train,' he had told her. And she had listened to him then. He would have been furious with her if he could've seen the way she had gone at it today. Eomer would've, too. So would Faramir, for that matter.

Eowyn suppressed the urge to scream. There he was again! Why did he insist on invading her thoughts? Must he always be in her mind? It was infuriating._He_ was infuriating. After locking her bedroom door, a habit learned from the dark days at Meduseld, Eowyn threw back the covers on her bed savagely and plumped up the pillows with a bit more ferocity than was absolutely necessary before climbing in. She settled into her bed and, after tossing and turning a bit, finally let sleep claim her.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''The Library of the Citadel – One Hour Later

"Faramir, we have been all over the Citadel," Boromir complained. "It is obvious that your betrothed has retired for the evening, as any woman in her right mind would do. Please, brother. Let's go to her chambers."

Faramir, in spite of his earlier resolve to seek out Eowyn in her room, had gone back to being…..modest. He kept avoiding the part of the Citadel that sheltered his fiancée, insisting on searching for her everywhere else instead. Boromir was getting quite irritated with his brother.

"I do not want to make her uncomfortable," Faramir reasoned.

"So you keep saying," Boromir shot back. "And yet I think you are the only one who is uncomfortable with the idea, little brother. You place too much importance on appearances sometimes. Now, we should go to my future sister-in-law's chambers. We have wasted an hour since we left the training grounds!"

Faramir hesitated.

"She is probably asleep by now," he began. Boromir rolled his eyes.

"And if she is, whose fault is that? If we had gone there to begin with, you would not have to wake her up! Trust me, Faramir, you should not let this argument fester overnight."

The young Steward regarded his brother thoughtfully. Boromir was right, he knew. This problem with Eowyn should be worked out right away. Such a thing should not be allowed to build up. This was no time for conventions and proper etiquette.

"Very well," Faramir gave in. "I shall go see her."

Boromir gave a sigh of relief and followed his brother out of the library.

''''''''''''''''''''''Eowyn's Chambers

The sound of men screaming in agony surrounded Eowyn, but all she could focus on was the hideous being in front of her now.

'Feast on his flesh', the Witch-King hissed.

She didn't know where she found the courage, but it seemed to well up from within her. All she could think about was the fact that her uncle was lying helpless and she was all that stood between him and an unholy death.

'I will kill you if you touch him!' she cried, unable to keep her voice from breaking. One slash, two slashes….the fell beast was dead. And now she stood before the Witch-King.

Eowyn could not keep the fear from her eyes as she looked upon him. And she hated herself for showing weakness. It all happened so fast. With one swift hit from his weapon, she had dropped the shield she held. Pain like she had never felt before surged through her arm. The Witch-King had her cornered.

'Fool!' the being cried. 'No man can kill me!'

Eowyn saw a slight movement behind the Ringwraith. She saw Merry plunge his weapon into the Nazgul and heard the shriek of pain from the servant of Sauron. Filled with courage at the sight of this small being, so brave in the face of danger, Eowyn pulled off her helmet, letting her hair fall down around her.

"I am no man!" she cried. "A woman stands before you!"

She plunged her sword into the Witch-King and watched, both fascinated and horror-stricken, as he crumpled in front of her. He was gone.

Eowyn turned to go to her uncle. But, when she went to him, she found that it was not her uncle who was lying there. It was…

"Faramir?" she whispered in disbelief.

He looked up at her, his eyes full of love.

"Thank you," he said.

"No," she shook her head. "No, this isn't right. Faramir! Faramir!"

But he was already gone.

"So young," said a voice from behind her.

She turned around to see Grima hovering over her. They were no longer on the battlefield, but in the Golden Hall of Meduseld. This was Theodred's room. Eowyn looked back down. Theodred's bed, but Faramir was still lying there.

"No," was all she could say.

Grima put his hands on her shoulders comfortingly and a shiver went up her spine.

"You grieve, my lady," Wormtongue said. "But you will find happiness again. Your uncle has seen to that."

Eowyn refused to look away from Faramir. Grima continued.

"Your brother has abandoned Rohan. Your cousin and your betrothed are both dead. Your uncle is very ill. My lady, you are the only hope for your country. And your uncle has been so concerned for your future, as have I."

"This is not real," Eowyn whispered, keeping her eyes on Faramir, willing him to wake up.

"I assure you, it is. King Theoden has decreed that your marriage shall take place two weeks from now. It is vital to the survival of the house of Eorl. Our marriage will bring you happiness, Eowyn."

Only then did Eowyn look away from Faramir's body.

"Our marriage?" she inquired disbelievingly.

"The king has decreed it," Grima said, his tone that of one who had fought the decision. "I was just as stunned as you."

Eowyn shrank away from Wormtongue as he began to advance on her, not realizing that she was headed towards a wall until it was too late. There was nowhere to go.

"I will treat you well, my lady," Grima assured her, unsuccessfully. "You have nothing to fear."

In one swift move, he captured her lips with his own.

Just as Faramir was about to knock on the door, there was a choked sob from inside. He hesitated, thinking that Eowyn might be crying about him. Then, both he and Boromir heard something completely different.

"NO! FARAMIR! FARAMIR!"

Instantly gone were the ideas of propriety and etiquette. When he realized the door was locked, Faramir began to ram the door with all his strength, cursing whatever wood it was made out of. Boromir stood by helplessly, wishing desperately that he could help in this manner. Two guards were summoned by the noise and, between the three of them, the door was gone in short order.

"FARAMIR!!! NO!"

Rushing into the room, Faramir was only slightly relieved to see that Eowyn was suffering from a nightmare. His relief was only slight because he knew how terribly, terribly real nightmares could be. In a few long strides, he had gathered her into his arms.

"Eowyn, wake up. Eowyn, it's me. It's Faramir. I'm here, it's alright. You're alright."

She had tensed when he first touched her, but she went completely limp now, sobbing as she clung to him like a child. He turned slightly and dismissed the guards with a nod, hoping that Eowyn hadn't seen them at all. She was terribly proud.

He stroked her hair as she cried, speaking in soothing tones and saying things that really didn't make much sense. But Eowyn didn't care. It was Faramir's voice she heard. That was all that mattered. As her sobs subsided, she started to realize that something wasn't….quite right.

"Faramir?" she inquired, her voice muffled against the material of his tunic.

"Yes?"

"You came to my room?"

"Yes."

Eowyn pondered this for a moment. Faramir was always so….proper. This was very unexpected. She pulled away and looked at him.

"Why?" she asked.

Faramir shook his head and smiled a little.

"I'll tell you in a few minutes," he replied, reaching out and wiping the tears off her face with his hand. "Right now, why don't you tell me what that nightmare was about?"

She began to close herself off. He could see it happening right in front of him.

"No," he said. "Don't do that. I want to know."

She sighed deeply and related the dream to him, but left the part about Grima out. Faramir studied her closely and could tell she wasn't revealing the whole thing. But there was no sense in pushing her.

"I've had the dream several times," she told him. "But only in Rohan. I thought that here, in Gondor, I wouldn't have it anymore."

Faramir frowned.

"Why?"

"Because I would be with you," she explained.

"Well, my lady, you have been with me," Faramir began. "But we've been so busy arguing with each other, perhaps it's triggered this dream of yours."

"Why did you come to my room, Faramir?" Eowyn repeated her earlier question, eager to get the answer. Faramir smiled at her.

"I think you spent far too much time with Master Merry. His curiosity rubbed off on you," he said.

"Oh, if anyone has curiosity to spare, it's Master Pippin," Eowyn argued. "So you are the one who is truly in danger. Now, will you answer my question?"

"Yes. I came to discuss something with you. I…..I wanted to apologize first of all. And I want to find out what it is that's bothering you. Eowyn, I can't even remember what started all these fights that we've had. But I do remember that you keep saying I treat you like a possession. Now, I honestly don't know how I've done that, but I apologize for making you feel like a possession. If you would tell me how I've done so, I'll do my best not to do it again. What is it, Eowyn?"

Eowyn was crying again.

"You're just so sweet and so kind. I don't deserve you, Faramir. Truly, I don't!"

Faramir scratched his head and stood up, then began to walk around the room.

"Well…..now I am confused!" he finally said.

"You haven't done anything to make me feel like a possession," Eowyn confessed.

"I haven't?"

"No."

There was a moment of silence.

"Then why have you accused me of such a thing?"

"Faramir, I-"

"Do you have any idea what you have put me through?"

"No, I can't say that I-"

"Eowyn, I can't believe that you would do this!"

"Faramir, please let me-"

"I don't think I want to hear-"

"For the love of the Valar, would you let the woman speak?!"

This came from Boromir, who had made himself scarce while Faramir comforted Eowyn. He interjected himself now, though, seeing that Faramir was being stubborn. Eowyn wasn't sure what brought her fiancé up short or what prompted the rather shocked look on his face, but she was grateful for it.

"I'm frightened, Faramir."

Eowyn jumped right to the point. No more pretending for her. He might as well know everything. Faramir's look was one of complete shock. Did he just hear Eowyn admit to being frightened?

"Frightened? Of what?"

"Marriage, children, a life in Gondor, being a wife….everything that most women seem to have under control, I guess."

Faramir narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how to do all those things! I know how to fight! But I can barely sew, I can't cook at all, I'm not very good with children, and I'm rather unsure of……other things," Eowyn blushed.

"Oh, Elbereth," Boromir began to hit his head against the broken door. Faramir shot him a dark look.

"We can discuss…..other things…..later," Faramir assured her. "And as for the things you spoke of, do you think I care about them?"

"You don't care about children?"

"I adore children! And I saw you with Bergil just the other day. He idolizes you and you're wonderful with him. You'll be a wonderful mother, Eowyn. We have cooks, we have seamstresses. If you want to learn how to do those things, they'll teach you how. Queen Arwen could teach you as well, although I have it on good authority from Aragorn that her cooking is not the best, either."

"Really?"

"Ranger's Honor," Faramir swore, holding his hand over his heart and making Eowyn laugh. The sound brought a smile to his own lips. He regarded her for a moment, his eyes piercing her own until Eowyn was a little uncomfortable.

"Faramir?"

"I was just thinking. You picked these fights with me because you were scared? You were frightened that you wouldn't be a good wife?"

"I was worried that I wouldn't be good enough for you. I was trying to push you away, I guess. I am truly sorry, Faramir. Will you forgive me?"

"You're a thousand times too good for me," he argued, placing a kiss on her forehead for emphasis. "And I thank the Valar every day that you were placed in my life."

"Every day?" she questioned, her eyes shining with mischief.

"Well…." he hesitated.

Eowyn laughed.

"Do not say anything more, Faramir. I believe that, if we were to fall all over each other every day, life would be very boring indeed."

Faramir smiled and gently traced the contour of Eowyn's cheek with his hand. She closed her eyes at the contact and stepped closer, leaning into him.

"Life with you will be many things, my lady," he said softly. "But I do not think that 'boring' is among them."

"Thank you," she replied softly, not bothering to look up. She was enjoying this far too much. The sound of his heart beating, the scent of the woods that always lingered around him….No matter how much time Faramir spent in the city, he always had a certain scent that Eowyn was later to learn came from Ithilien. She loved it.

"Eowyn," Faramir whispered.

"Hmmmm?"

"Eowyn, I must go. It is late."

"Stay," she said, not really realizing what she was saying. She only knew that she wanted him with her.

Faramir argued with himself for a moment before letting propriety win out.

"I can't, Eowyn. I have to go."

Reality set in then and Eowyn reluctantly released her fiancé. It took all the strength he had to not take her in his arms and kiss her passionately, but Faramir knew that, if he did that, he might lose all the self-control he had. Instead, he kissed her gently on the lips and whispered against her ear.

"Le melon."

Eowyn smiled.

"Someday, you're going to have to tell me what that means. For all I know, you're insulting me!"

"Why don't you ask Aragorn or Arwen?" Faramir inquired innocently as he headed towards the door.

Eowyn made a face at him.

"Because they won't tell me. They know your little game."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," retorted Faramir, still adopting a look of innocence. He turned his attention to the door then and became sober. "I'll have a guard posted here for the rest of tonight. And someone will be sent to repair it tomorrow."

"You broke down the door?!" Eowyn noticed the door for the first time.

"You were calling for me," Faramir replied, his tone impressing upon her that he would've done anything to get to her. Eowyn embraced him.

"Thank you, Faramir."

They stood like that for a while, arms wrapped around each other tightly before Faramir reminded Eowyn once again that he had to leave.

"Just a few more days and I won't have to," he reminded her.

She smiled in response and closed her eyes as he kissed her again. Then, he left the room. Sighing, Eowyn went back to her bed. She settled back in for a restful night's sleep.

Faramir suppressed a groan as he returned to his own chambers. He had done many difficult things in his life, but leaving Eowyn alone just now had to be number one on the list. After placing a guard at her door, he practically ran back to his room.

"Your room isn't going anywhere, you know," said Boromir, appearing beside him.

"I know," Faramir replied, slowing his pace slightly. He glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "Um…..thank you, Boromir."

"For what?"

"For giving us some privacy. I….uh….I noticed that you only appeared a couple of times."

Boromir shrugged.

"Far be it from me to interfere in my brother's private life."

Faramir shot him a disbelieving look.

"Very well," Boromir sighed in surrender. "Far be it from me to SPY on my brother's private life."

"That's better," Faramir nodded.

Boromir hesitated as they entered Faramir's room, unsure of whether or not he should bring up a certain subject. Faramir brought it up for him.

"I know, Boromir. She did not tell me the full extent of her nightmare."

"You know?"

"Of course I know! She's my fiancée! Boromir, do you know…"

Boromir shook his head.

"I only knew that she was hiding something. I don't know what it is. I cannot see into her mind, brother."

Faramir frowned as he removed his tunic, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair. Boromir shook his head.

"What?" Faramir questioned, his tone defensive.

"Most people," Boromir observed dryly, "would think that I was the messy brother and you were the neat one. Not the other way around."

"I have things on my mind! More important things than a tunic!" retorted Faramir. But he picked the tunic up and put it where it would be picked up for laundry, nevertheless.

"Do you know what she is hiding?" Boromir asked, returning to the subject of Eowyn.

"No," sighed Faramir. "But she will tell me when she's ready. I will not push her. Someday, Boromir. Someday, she'll tell me. For now, I'm getting some sleep. So……go haunt someone else."

Boromir bristled.

"There's that word 'haunt' again. Really, Faramir, you should be more considerate of my feelings."

Faramir smiled as he climbed into his bed.

"And you should be more considerate of the fact that some of us still need sleep. Good night, brother."

Boromir smiled back at his brother. Although he left the room, he never left the Citadel that night. Eowyn had more than one guard outside her room. While the guard Faramir had placed could protect her against physical threats, he couldn't protect her against anything else. And Boromir wanted to make sure that his future sister-in-law was safe. Eowyn had a sweeter sleep that night than she could ever remember having before. And she was never sure. But she almost felt as though a presence similar to Faramir's was in her room when she awoke the next morning.

* * *

A/N: So, what's with the dreams? Aren't nightmares awful? Sorry for the long space between updates, but I lost my muse! And now…..I've found him again! Say hello, Haldir!

Haldir: Hello!

Isn't he the cutest thing? Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Next chapter, an engagement party. Doubt begins to creep into Faramir's mind, planted there by some jerk of a noble. And Boromir is going to get revenge on that guy. Ha! Stupid noble. Never mess with Faramir on Boromir's watch. Right, Haldir?

Haldir: You are correct. This noble will definitely wish he had not troubled Faramir. And he is fortunate that Boromir is the only one who will seek revenge on him.

Haldir and Faramir are good friends in my universe, because Haldir didn't die at Helm's Deep in my universe! If this gets posted before Thanksgiving (which is looking more unlikely because is being spooty), I hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving! If not, then I hope everyone _had_ a Happy Thanksgiving!

Haldir: What is Thanksgiving?

Help me!!!

Translations: Le melon - 'I love you'

Post A/N: Well, was being spooty on Wednesday, so I didn't get to update then. I'm sorry. But I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. On a side note, I got to go see 'National Treasure' on the Friday after Thanksgiving. And Sean Bean was just charmingly bad. I mean, in a good way. Well, this is just not coming out at all like I planned. Anyway, go see it. It's a wonderful popcorn flick. Takes a while to get going, but it's worth the wait. See you guys later! And please review. Haldir loves reviews!


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